All That's Left

one

I hate this. My insides feel like they're twisting into a ball. I just want it to be over with.

With a final heave, I rest my forehead against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. I can't help but blame Mom.

As much as I love her, she needs help. And it must be true if I'm saying that, because I know I'm definitely not one to talk. But ever since Dad left, she's gone downhill.

I shudder as I push myself up off the floor, struggling not to give up whatever's left in my stomach. Things weren't always this bad. It started with headaches, or small stomach aches, but as Mom gets worse, so do I.

At first the drugs weren't too bad. Just a little bit of pot inbetween cigarettes. But the more time that passed without Dad coming back, the more Mom did. Soon the joints replaced the cigs completely. Then cocaine. She didn't stop inbetween to mess with the other party drugs. She wasn't looking for some major trip, just something to make her forget about how worthless she felt. So I'm not really surprised to have found a needle in her dresser. It makes sense that her next conquest would be heroin.

I had went in her room last night to find some Tylenol for my headache, but I knew as soon as I saw the syringe what it meant. I don't know how long it's been going on, but it's definitely affecting her. What once was a pretty face has become all sunken cheeks, swollen red eyes, and dry, cracked lips. It kills me to see her like that.

It's the whole reason I'm sick. Just thinking about what's happening to her, the thought of what it could lead to, it makes me feel like hell. I want nothing more than to help her, but I don't know what to do. I've never had to worry about shit like this before.

I hate my Dad. It's his fault Mom's like this. Before he left, we were good. Just an average family of three. Dad had to fuck it up by deciding that some random whore was more important than his 20 year marriage. Looking at them now, you'd never know that once upon a time Mom and Dad were great. Mom was a librarian, a book worm. Dad was a teacher, a smart guy, but I guess not smart enough.

Dad thought it would be okay to sleep with a student. At least the girl was eighteen, or he could've been in hell. Instead he lost his job, and decided we weren't worth it, so he moved out and left us. Mom's salary as the county librarian couldn't pay the bills, and we had to find a new place to live. Saying goodbye to my perfect childhood home was hard, but nothing hurt as much as watching Mom fall apart.

These shitty apartments was all Mom could afford. But the worst part wasn't that nothing had been updated since the 80's. It was the area. Full of violence, and especially drugs. I don't know who Mom met that started it, but she has an addictive personality. She was doomed from the first hit of a joint.

Even worse is where she's getting the drugs. Or, more like where is she getting the money? I know she's pretty, even if she's lost her former glory, and it terrifies me. I'm not ignorant enough to believe she's somehow doing something innocent for her drug money. I've seen the way she's started dressing.

These thoughts have me back over the bowl, holding my hair back as everything is emptied from my stomach. Soon it's just bile coming out, but I can't seem to stop. With everything going on, it doesn't matter how much I try to calm myself down. My body knows what my brain won't accept- shit has truly and royally hit the fan.

This chapter isn't done, so let me know if you want more!